Un concour lancé sur le blog de l'auteur proposait aux fans de créer leur propre démons avec hitoire, historique, runes, dessins ect...
Voici ma participation:
Frizhope Demon:
It’s a specific sort of demon as they are very few in the Core.
They come out at night at specific location and time of the year, usually answering a Mind demon’s call on punctual massive destruction attacks.
Frizhope is kind of demon’s BigMama for heavy duty as much as ultimate weapon.
Description:
As big a common barn, it’s shaped as a hornet.
The insect like head with massive mandibles top a ridiculously small body attached on a gigantic, disproportionate abdomen.
Larges hardened chitinuous organic plate’s covers the upper side whereas the underside is kind of raw pulsating and moving flesh.
The abdomen finishes with a protuberant spear long sting, folded under the abdomen.
That sting is a as much a razor sharp spade as a syringe, always ready to expulse corrosive and toxic fluids secreted in abundance from over fertile abdomen’s glands.
Stories tell that an added needle on the sting allows him to inseminate major demons so as to bring them enhanced strength, healing, morphing even, thanks to demonic sap injunction.
The abdomen is the sap and venom factory, but in addition, it protects and carries multiple embryonic demons enclosed as a “core” part; ready for expulsion in the heat of an assault if need be.
Devoid of legs or wings, it seemed to levitate for the (few) observers still alive (even fewer).
What they couldn’t see is that the Frizhope is sustained at an average of two meters above ground thanks to thousands ever moving organics tendrils whose role is to insure eight and mobility.
Rummaging the ground they’re on contact with, those tendrils have to draw nourishment for inside siblings, and are the direct link between Core and demons outside getting sonic waves instructions emitted through Frizhope’s synapses.
The Frizhope is surrounded by a demon swarm whose jellyfish likeness recalls the abdomen’s underside on which they are umbilical linked.
No one alive have been able to testify of a dawn were a Frizhope would have been defeated.
Only ultimate destruction, desolation and sterilization are symptoms of a Frizhope passing.
Nota : The French translation for hornet in french is frelon: Thus Frizhope for frelon zero hope
Victor clenched his jaw for the second time this morning.
Fully awake since dusk yesterday the whole perimeter of protective ward around his farm had been strangely quiet through the night.
Something was wrong with demons.
Tougher and stronger, the new wards the living legend Arlen had taught them a few months past could be paying off.
Standing facing Bert, his chief, mentor, and friend in the messenger office of Plöermail, Victor was uneasy and almost tempted to decline this mission of a new kind.
But what Bert asked was of course duty, and Victor had lived his whole life for it.
The coming of thaodan’s night in less than ten days made him think twice.
-“You know I can’t send Martin to the beach. He hasn’t recovered yet”
Indeed, Martin was still shaking with fever after an epic fight with a Shrimps vase demon had brought him below sea level.
Only the intensive coast messengers training in breathing and swimming allowed him to survive two days and night in a long forgotten sub sea creek.
-“I’ll go; you know I will, Bert.”
-“We are the sixteenth of May Victor, and the stellar conjunction is reaching its peak at thaodan’s night the eighteenth. If there is one chance, we have to take it”
-“let me back home this morning. I have yet to fix a few wardpost and I’ll be on the road at noon”
-“I won’t say no, but hurry, we need to know how Martin survived. Feeding on those algaes should have killed him if not the tremendous periwinkle demons”.
Something was wrong with nights.
Patting his horse’s mane, riding out of the little town, he could feel the fear spreading its venomous tendrils around both his heart and reason.
He’ll have to go fast along the road with little rest if he wanted to be back home for Thaodan’s night
Something was wrong with the Core.
His mother had given him the gift that allowed him to sense the core pulsating: like a living organ in the night, and a purring cat on daylight.
Thirty years of feelings from your night enemy’s very place had given him the patterns.
He could feel the demons squirting from the buzzing underneath at night and the silent rumble in the morning.
For a few months the frame he was used to, were changing.
There was no more rest after the night, as if despite the great effort of the night, demons were still pulsating, their venomous blood boiling
The thought of Arlen coming through the village gave him some comfort.
He had been lucky enough to spend some time with him that day. Arlen had listened carefully speaking little but giving much.
Launching his horse into gallop, he would ride straight to the shores, discover that creek Martin survived into and report back whatever it is that precise spot has of specific.
* * *
“Alive, I’m alive” thought Victor, as consciousness took a bit lower the buzzing in his head.
Quickly checking if fingers and toes were moving, he became slowly aware that a soft light was glowing at the back of the cave.
Riding in the stormy night along the high cliffs atop the maddened sea, rock and sand demons had unleashed an apocalypse of violence he had never witnessed.
Thinking of his beloved ones falling from the cliffs, he fainted while drowning between rocks and foam.
Thumping in his head Victor reckoned the pattern attuned with the reddish glow. Ramping further he could feel stronger as nearing the now visible source.
A power Nodus, he had found it somehow, it was there: One of the scarce holy locations in the world where nature in its beauty formed a ward of its own.
A vertical crack with on the right side, a single dot below a horizontal slash crossing the middle axe in its centre was shining in its powerful elemental glory.
Lying on his back, he watched the ceiling of this narrow pit registering this unique and powerful sign were Mother Earth repelled the scum coursing through her.
Instinctively he used his knife whose tip shimmered as he copied the holy ward on his forearm flesh.
* * *
Three stones in a circle were all Victor could distinguish as he merges in the diminished daylight.
The whole surroundings are shimmering as the first star in the sky mark the end of the day.
This place Victor understood with an enhanced consciousness is where the core massed its malevolent power in order to corrupt the holy place in the eve of thaodan’s night:
Before the stellar link with earth was to be the strongest and demons the weakest.
Still vibrating from the Nodus closeness, his right arm bled anew with a mix of liquid light shining brighter as night grew its fangs.
“That is what you were up to, then “thinks Victor assessing the dark and darker cursed place.
In the way of a wounded snake, demons were retreating from the land to throw their whole might against this place at that time of the year.
His temples drums as thick fog arises from the plain.
His fingers chill as wind blow stronger.
His legs are giving away as dark forms takes shapes.
“Come to me,” thought Victor
“I reject you no more”...
“Express yourself, you my ever present companion”,
“You, my first opponent since I decided to be your vassal no more”, whispered the messenger,
Shouting to the spiralling darkness amid the stone circle:
“Explode in me at last in all your rage so I may see your true face, you who laid sleeping in me all those years”.
“Show me your shape, you …my fear”
Earth and wind demons roam the land they take shape on.
He doesn’t see them yet but he perceives the first hiss and roar of hate from the teeming shapes.
Fear infuses in him as a single drop of blood would in clear water.
Grim crackling sounds of demons tearing at each other are everywhere in their absolute violence.
Amid the three standing stones, a barn sized demon materialize.
Hornet shaped with swords like mandible crackling in the now cold air, the gigantic ignominy soars in its buzzing and roaring glory.
Dwarfing the head, a disproportionate abdomen is pulsating with thousand lives of its own.
Protected with chitinuous plates on the top, pink spongy raw flesh oozes gory slime in tendrils rummaging the soil it’s erupting from.
Going back to the basics of the messenger’s training, again and again, reaching even deeper inside him; he tries to move his body according to the breath.
“Prepare your mind, awaken your senses, and dig inside yourself to reach the emotions you’ll need” recite Victor.
The old messenger mantra soothes his senses, but frustration swarm as his body does not answer.
Cancelling any resolve he might have build-up, a roaring sound tire in his brain like a wasp snuggled in the ear biting straight through it,.
The numbness mask Victor was desperately building crashed in one of sheer terror.
Raping the earth it’s standing on, each of the many tendrils are vibrating and stretching as the malevolent mass is arisen from the surface letting only way for a spear long sting.
Rescuing his sanity, tearing the fear veil, his old friend’s voice comes to mind: “Ugly init’? ain’t know if they got to reproduce, but mirrors should kill’em as much as sun!”
Victor sees the pattern anew.
The fear is there engulfing him whole but he can feel again.
Coursing through his arm, the Nodus-ward is pulsating power in rage, welcoming fear and using it to fuel his resolve.
The pattern becomes obvious.
Demons, as enslaved in the mightiness of this Core’s essence form, are dancing and evolving around the beast.
Feasting on weaker siblings, the strongest demons dares impale themselves on the venomous dart. Convulsing in pain or bliss as their eyes shines with something they never had before: sentience.
-“Breathe, keep your eyes shut and breathe” he told himself and feel for yourself what earth gave you.”
Indeed, thinking he was bleeding in his immobility, the drops after drops formed puddle on his feet shines, radiating reddish light brighter as darkness tries to take over.
Flowing now freely from the ward he sizzled on his arm, his blood pours freely through it as he feels fluids coming back from earth trough every pore with an enhanced strength infused back to him.
The beating of his temples he understand it now, never went from the core, but was an extension from the suffering voices of a demon violated mother earth.
Now, on Thaodan’s night, he knows it, the beating lets way to a drumming sound attuned with his heart, whose moves resonates with the celestial vault power.
Sky and earth get united thanks to a human being, able to hear and sing the elemental war anthem against demon’s corruption.
The first contact is disorienting. He hasn’t felt like moving yet, but an air demon in its hunger frenzy is melting, shrinking, turning into ashes as its sinks down, impaled on his raised arm.
He tries not to see the ugliness of this intelligence able to bring destruction; he wants to believe in the beauty of life and what hope might offer.
The insectoïd head turns to face him.
This demon understands.
It knows he is there for its destruction.
The sting disengages from an earth demon which size had doubled, and immediately throws its whole psychic might against Victor, launching spores and minions toward him.
Victor set aside the multiple needles like pains searing through his head as he set toward this demon’s breeder, face of what could be life without daylight.
He feels the pain of blows raining on him.
Even if no claws or fangs may reach him, impacts make him pivot and duck, always set in his objective’s direction.
A vicious killing blow from a sand demon breaks his ribs before exploding in a spray of mud cascading around him.
Victor tries to ignore the agony tearing his body and soul apart and hiss steps turn into a run.
Intoning the holy chant, he feels the multiple resonances of this one note he heard his whole life.
His cries wrap him in the cleansing power of revenge.
Still birthing spores, the demon has no ways to move fast enough to get rid of him and start to circle the shining bug dangerously coming its way.
Cutting venomous tendrils, Victor wants to reach the beginning of the abdomen, separate head from body.
In a last spring of energy, thrusting forward, he plunges his arm in the scorching gory mud of the abdomen, shouting at the top of his lungs as the dart unmercifully pierces his kidneys an tears his spine in shreds.
Spread on the grass, face turned sideways, he inhale for the first and last time the delicate fragrance of nature in the middle of the night as a Mind demon melt back to the Core between three standing stones.
Lun 21 Mai 2012 - 9:49
